


remedy

by onthighsbelongtotaemin



Series: group [4]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Depression, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8818120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onthighsbelongtotaemin/pseuds/onthighsbelongtotaemin
Summary: taeyeon gets help.





	

taeyeon wakes up confused.  there’s a burning light in her eyes & a stranger by her bed asking her a question she doesn’t understand.  the room is too dark to be her bedroom, the covers too light, & she begins to panic because she doesn’t know where she is.  she bolts up & back, falling off the bed onto the floor with a thud.

“taeyeon, are you ok?”  the stranger knows her name & it makes her even more anxious as she crouches behind the bed.

“who are you?  where am i?”

the stranger’s brow furrows as they peer at her over the bed & taeyeon can now see that they have a clipboard in one hand & a mobile medical cart in the other, a blood pressure cuff & thermometer attached to the metal pole.

oh.

she remembers just as the stranger, a nurse she doesn’t recall meeting, explains what’s happening.

“my name is qian but you can call me victoria.  you’re here for respite & you’ve been here about two days. i’m here to take your vitals.”

taeyeon nods as she slowly climbs back onto the bed, stretching her arm out.  the burn of the inflated cuff is part of a familiar ritual of her blood pressure, heart rate, & temperature being measured.  she wonders if they’ll put her on a scale here too like they do at her psychiatrist’s office.

everything is “normal”, a term she hates but is always used to describe her physical health, & victoria leaves with a smile & the gentle shutting of taeyeon’s door.

she lays back down on the stiff mattress & stares at the blackness above her.  two days. that sounds about right.

she reaches over to check her phone but her hand only flops in the open space where her side table would be if she were home.  and she curses because even if there was a table her phone wouldn’t be there.  without looking she knows that she’s wearing gray sweatpants & a white t-shirt, & that there are aqua foam slippers with smiley faces stamped into the material on the floor.  it’s the same everywhere.

this time was an accident.  or at least that’s what she tells herself.  maybe it’s true.  summer isn’t usually this rough, but she hadn’t been able to shake her mood.  she was sad, so unbearably, bone-achingly sad. the kind of sad that consumes & colors every thought & feeling, & the only comfort was the persistent voice telling her that she could make it end if she wanted to.  all she had to do was try.

she had fought hard against it, checking herself into a clinic when she wasn’t sure she could fight it anymore, going home when she thought she might finally be safe.  but it was persistent & she had grown weary of struggling.

her memories are fuzzy.  they probably gave her a sedative to help her sleep.  it’s making it difficult to separate memories from imagination.  she has a vague impression of jongin’s frantic face, & his hand is holding hers while the shrill siren of an ambulance blared all around them.  

the hospital, yes.  charcoal, as always.  too many times to be a surprise.

it’s too late to try to fall back asleep, & she’s too wired now that she’s realized where she is.  she sits up & puts her feet on the floor, feeling the foam slippers she knew would be there beneath her toes.  she slips them on & pads across the room.

the hallway is bright, too bright, & for a moment she loses the ability to see, squinting against the light as her eyes slowly adjust.  she looks around at the familiar layout, remembering the last time she was here.

it’s the strange one, the one whose layout makes no sense.  the hallways connect making a square around a center that is hidden, the glassed-in nurses station on one side, a wall-less “entertainment” area (a large screen TV, half a dozen cheap novels, & a box of broken crayons with assorted coloring paper), the two unisex bathrooms with shower stalls, & a blank wall.  the blank wall has always bothered her, it’s so out of sight & dimly lit; it just feels sad.  and this place has plenty of sad already.

she passes by the nurses’ station on her way to the “dining area”; a handful of tables in an open space off the main hallway.  there’s a window with a metal grate across it that will be rolled up when it’s time to eat.  which will be in about half an hour based on the clock above it, & the smells coming from behind it.  there’s a phone on a stool next to it, an old phonebook, & a sign that says each patient is allowed a maximum of ten minutes.

there aren’t many people she wants to call.  her parents are out of the question.  the last time she was hospitalized her father had sighed & asked her why she insisted on “being so dramatic”.  & it just made her mother cry.  her brother was out of state & she was never sure what the time difference was between them so she struck him off the list.

she should call jinki.

he was her group leader, but he was also a peer counselor, & more than once she had gone to him for help: he was the one who had driven her to the clinic last time.  and maybe she would, later.  probably. right now her fingers itched to dial a different number.  if only she could remember what it was.

jongin had been there when she got out of the clinic last time, & if her memories are real he’s the reason she’s here now.  alive.  she’s not sure what she should say to him.  and she can’t remember his number.  the nurses might have her phone but she doesn’t know whether they’d let her see it.  she steps up to the glass & knocks on it timidly, waiting for one of the nurses to look up.  a thin nurse with a fleur di lei tattooed on her neck & purple highlights waves her to a small window & opens it, asking what she needs.  she checks through taeyeon’s belongings but there’s no cellphone. she shrugs an apology as taeyeon thanks her for her assistance.

she falls back into the chair by the phone, suddenly very, very tired.

she sighs & dials the numbers that she has memorized & waits for a familiar voice to answer the phone, grimacing at the dull hum of the call connecting.  it suddenly occurs to her that it won’t be her number that shows up on the id which means that she’ll have to speak more than she might otherwise have to.

“hello?”, comes the groggy voice on the other end of the line.  she glances up at the clock again, actually paying attention to what it means beyond meal time, & thinks that a call at 6:45a is probably not on his wish list for a friday morning.

“hi.  it’s taeyeon. lee. from group.”

“taeyeon, hi.  what’s happening?”

he never asks her how she is he always asks what’s happening. sometimes the two are the same, sometimes they’re not connected at all.  she likes it.  it always feels like a challenge to explain how she feels; the words aren’t always there.

“i’m at the clinic.  the one on valley drive.”

“ok,” he says, his voice steady, “what do you need me to do?  do you want me to come down there?”

she kind of does.  there’s something about jinki that makes her feel safe, makes her feel like she’s not alone in this, that she’s understood as she is.  he’s a really good counselor, she thinks, & maybe they’re even friends; she’s not quite sure.  she’s been to hi house & met his boyfriend, taemin, but it feels like she relies on him too much, more than a friend should.  then again, maybe this is what friends do.  it’s what jongin does, listens.

“yeah, i would.  um, could you do me a favor first?”

“sure, what?”

“remember my friend jongin?”

“uh…yeah.  dance class?”

“yeah.  um, i can’t remember his number.  could you message him on facebook or something & get it for me?”

there’s a pause & she feels weird, like she’s crossed some boundary that until that moment didn’t really exists.  but then there’s a shuffle & she finds herself on speaker.

“what’s his last name?”, come jinki’s tinny voice.

“oh, uh, kim.”

there’s the sound of keys clicking & jinki humming something she can’t quite place.

“what exactly do you want me to say?”

that’s a good question.  he probably already knows that she’s here, or at least that she’s somewhere, but she hopes that he doesn’t.  her face scrunches up into a grimace as she thinks of how she wants to communicate her present situation.

“he’ll probably recognize your name.  just tell him that i’m ok.  that….that i’m getting treatment.  something like that.”

there’s more clicking.

“how about this: hi, this is jinki, taeyeon’s friend.  she’s doing better & she’s like to give you a call, but you know taeyeon, she lost her phone.  if you could send me your number i’ll get it to her & she can tell you more herself.”

“that’s fine.”

a few more clicks & then jinki’s back on the line, his voice normal again.

“it’s sent.”

“thanks.  when do you think you could be here?”

“i’ll try to be there as soon as i can.  it won’t be any earlier than 10, but no later than 3.  sorry to give you such a wide window, taeyeon.”

she nods even though he can’t see & she swallows back the panic as it suddenly hits her that she’s alone.

“do you need me to do anything else?”

“no, thanks.  i should go,” she says as the metal gate rolls up behind her, the smell of breakfast wafting through the air, “it looks like they’re about to serve their world-class foam pancakes.”

jinki laughs & she hangs up the phone.

it’s 10:15 & jinki hasn’t arrived yet & no one has come to speak with her.  they must have interviewed her when she came in but she doesn’t remember.  maybe the receptionists would know, but she doesn’t want to talk to them.  the tv is on & there’s a re-run of some sitcom she feels she’s seen before but doesn’t recall the name of.  there are also four strangers sat around the room with her, two on a sofa, one at a table reading a book, & the fourth sitting on the floor coloring.  

she sits on a separate sofa, staring at the flashing screen, trying to let the dullness of the program numb her mind, distract her for a bit. but it doesn’t work, she’s too anxious. everything is making her anxious. the people, the noise, the feeling of imbalance she still has from this morning.  quiet is what she needs, she thinks, & heads toward her bedroom.  

she’s stopped halfway by a woman quite a bit shorter than herself with a bright smile.

“taeyeon?”

“yes?”  she answers warily because this woman acts like she knows her & taeyeon’s definitely never met her before.  at least, not that she remembers.

“hi, i’m junghee.  i’d like to talk to you about your meds?”

taeyeon braces herself because this is not a conversation she wants to have, & technically she could turn around & walk away.  but she’s so tired of everything that she simply nods & follows the other down the hall.

junghee leads her into a small office, impersonal, no window with just the standard box of tissues on a metal desk, a set of chairs, & a surprisingly nice computer.  at least her seat is cushioned.

“so i understand that you were here recently.”

taeyeon shuffles in her seat & looks down at the floor, crossing her arms.

“yeah, two months ago.”

“did anyone try to change your meds during or after your visit?”

“no.”  and honestly, she hadn’t asked.

“i think that what you’re on isn’t working, evidenced by your being here, & i’d like you to try something new.  now, it’s good that you’re already here, it’s a safe place to try this out in case there’s any adverse reactions.  but i think this may be a better fit for you than what you’re on right now.”

taeyeon looks up, tentatively.  this woman is offering her hope & she wants to take it.  she’s so confident & sincere, she reminds taeyeon of a puppy; all soft smiles & determination.  but there are other factors.

“i don’t know how long my insurance will let me stay.”

junghee nods, thoughtfully.

“that’s a good point.  you’re covered for at least five days.  we can see if we can get it extended, & if not we can transfer you to an out-patient program that will keep track of your medication.  do you have a counselor?”

“yes.  no.  well, sort of.  he’s not my counselor, exactly, but he is a counselor.”

“ok, what’s his name?”, junghee asks, her fingers poised at the keyboard.

“jinki.”  junghee pulls her fingers back with a smile & a small laugh.

“jinki lee?”

“yeah?”

junghee sighs, but it’s a happy sigh, the smile still on her face as she shakes her head & types.

“he’s’ a good guy.  and a good counselor.”

taeyeon nods, noticing the distinction, surprised but pleased that she knows him.  she hesitates for a moment.

“he’s coming by today.  to see me.”  junghee nods as she keeps typing.

“that’s good.  sometimes it helps to see a familiar face.”

taeyeon nods again in agreement.

“ok,” junghee says, turning back to taeyeon.  “i’ve put the new prescription in your chart.  you’ve been off your meds long enough that i don’t see any reason to dose down.  we’ll start at the lowest dose tonight & see how that works out.  then, depending on how you feel, we’ll increment up until we find a dose you’re comfortable with.  any questions?”

taeyeon shakes her head no because she really doesn’t.  this isn’t her first med change; she’s done this too many times to count.  there’s just something about junghee’s enthusiasm that is infections, that makes her think that this will be the time that it all comes together.  maybe she will be well.

they’re leaving junghee’s office, or the office junghee took her to because she suspects it’s not actually hers, when jinki pushes himself up off the wall he was leaning on outside the door.

“hey taeyeon.  ah, junghee.” to taeyeons’ surprised amusement the other woman actually seems to blush at her own name.

“jinki,” she says as she nods & turns to walk away, a smile on her face.  taeyeon watches her go before turning to jinki.

“does she know you’re gay?”  the confused look on his face lets her know everything she needs to & she changes the subject quickly.

“did you get jongin’s number?”

“yeah, here.”  he pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket & she reads the numbers hungrily.

“he’d like to see you.”  she looks up, horrified at the idea.

“here?!”  jinki chuckles & shakes his head.

“that’s totally up to you.  you don’t have to.”  he pauses, watching her carefully, & her mind begins to race at what could possibly be wrong.  something is always going wrong.

“he’s really worried about you.  he actually video messaged me as soon as we hung up this morning.  he told me about that night.”  taeyeon cringes because she knew, she knows, that she can call jinki when it gets bad & she didn’t & now she’s afraid that he’s mad at her for not trusting him.  maybe he’ll understand that it’s not as simple as that.

he glances around & she realizes they’re still in the hallway. but they’re also in a clinic with patients who’ve done the same & worse.  he ushers her into the office she & junghee had just left, & she wonders, as he shuts the door, whether he actually has permission to be here,

“do you want to talk about it?”  his tone is calm yet earnest & to her mortification she begins to cry. the only action he takes is to gently push the box of tissues across the table.

“it’s just been so hard.  it’s not any specific thing.  i am so tired, all the time.  and i’m…it’s like i’m drowning.  i can’t breathe.  i didn’t mean for him to find me.”  she whispers the last part as a soft of confession.  of everything she regrets she thinks letting him see her like that is her greatest, even if it wasn’t intentional.  

“do you think he’s mad?”  jinki’s eyes soften at her question & she likes how kind his eyes are.  maybe jinki’s not mad.  but jongin might be.  her parents were.

“no, i don’t.  i think he’s worried about you & wants to make sure you’re doing better.  but that’s not what’s important here, taeyeonnie.” she smiles at the diminutive; she likes it when he calls her that.

“if you want to call him then do,” he says in his warm voice, “but don’t feel that you owe him a call.  if you need time take it.  what’s most important here, in this moment, is you.  he can wait.  and if he’s the person i think he is, he will.”  she tears up again, her face scrunching, & she knows her eyes & face are turning red & splotchy.  if it were anyone else it would be humiliating.  even with jinki it still is a little.  

he lets her hug him even though it’s toeing a line, & leads her back to her room after she says she’d like to rest, skipping the lunch she can hear being served.  he says good-bye & leaves, & she lays down in a bed that isn’t hers, her head resting on a foreign pillow.

it’s nearly dinner time when she wakes, a knock at her door & a new nurse telling her that it’s time to eat.  she makes it down the hall just as they’re finishing up, getting the last plate before the shutter rolls down.  it’s better than breakfast, though that’s not saying much, but she’s hungry so she eats.  as the others file out of the room, she takes a seat beside the phone & punches in the numbers on the paper into the keypad.

it rings three times & she hopes that jongin will realize that the “restricted” flashing on his phone is her trying to reach him.

“there’s a tentative “hello?” that comes through the line, into her ear, & she sighs with relief.

“jongin?  it’s taeyeon.”  she listens to his voice, to the pattern of words, & the inflection of tone.  it’s soft, so soft, & she closes her eyes & listens, just listens to him speak.  a tear escapes from beneath her lashes & rolls down her cheek.  she has no idea what he’s saying, too absorbed in the sound of his speech to care about the content.  suddenly it’s gone & in the silence she hears her name.

“jongin.”  she lets the quiet sit a little longer, smiling when she realizes what she wants to say.

“thank you.”


End file.
